


His Warrior

by lauwrite



Series: The Irishman and The Lady [3]
Category: The Last Kingdom (TV), The Warrior Chronicles | The Saxon Stories - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27183244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauwrite/pseuds/lauwrite
Summary: Aethelstan has a lover more than simple and he perfectly knows it. He is a warrior and as the temperament of a wolf, and praise god for putting him at his sides.Post book 13/War Lord. Contains no spoilers.
Relationships: Aethelstan/OC
Series: The Irishman and The Lady [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852000
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	His Warrior

Aethelstan grew to love summer. Each time days were starting to warm, it reminded him of the first summer he spent out of monastery. What an adventure it had been. He closed his eyes, pressing his back more in the cushion between him and the headboard. The afternoon's light was filling the bedroom and heating his skin. 

He liked this bedroom. It wasn't his, much simpler, without ornaments or great columns built by the Romans. It was humble, walls were in wood and armours and weapons were ordered on the furniture. It was Niallán's bedroom and in the image of a warrior.

Aethelstan opened his eyes again, and fondly smiled at the man asleep next to him. Niallán's face when he was resting was always a wonder to him. The usual tension on his features was disappearing and making him look younger. He was on his side, holding a cushion against him. The light was making every scar, even the most subtle ones, noticeable. 

Niallán wasn't a tall man, he was half a head smaller than him. Though, the strong and dry curves of his muscles were good reminders of how much he trained to be such a good warrior.

"Stop staring at me, you're freaking me out." Niallán mumbled, his voice muffled by the cushions as he moved to be on his belly, his head turned away from Aethelstan.

The King chuckled and leaned over him, his hand delicately ran along the warrior's back, and he smirked when he felt his hips shifting under his touch. He kissed a path from his shoulder blade to the soft skin behind his ear.

"Admit you like it, when I'm staring at you." Aethelstan whispered, his chest grazing against Niallán's back. 

The warrior growled. "Not when I sleep." He rolled to face his lover, his still sleepy eyes getting used to the light. "I feel like you're planning to stab me." 

Aethelstan grinned even more. "Maybe I am." He teased him and started to kiss his neck. "Studying every of your weaknesses." His fingers followed the swollen skin gashing his side. Niallán's sigh reached his ears as he kissed him down on his chest. "It's dangerous for a King to have such a strong warrior by his sides." 

Niallán's fingers tangled in Aethelstan's long hair as his abs tensed under his mouth. "You'd still have a hard time trying." 

The older laughed again, going up again to finally claim the warriors lips. "You're probably right."

Niallán's hand cupped his jaw, keeping Aethelstan's face just enough away to meet his eyes. The King had always found the piercing blue of his eyes fascinating. So bright, and yet revealing little of the man's thoughts. "My father used to say Irishmen are always right." There was the ghost of a smirk, and Aethelstan knew he was trying to tease him. 

But Niallán wasn't as good as him at this little game.

"Thank god, you're only half Irish." Aethelstan snapped making him grimace. 

"Go fetch me some ale, King of Whatever." He growled, Aethelstan's satisfaction growing. 

This was something else he liked here. For some hours titles meant nothing, though Niallán rarely accord speech to titles. But at least, Aethelstan wouldn't have to glare at him. 

He crawled out of the bed and walked to a small table. He poured ale in two cups already there. He looked above his shoulder, hearing Niallán standing up. Quite reluctantly, Aethelstan kept his eyes on what he was doing, careful to not spill ale, and when he eventually was done, he was already wearing his pants. He walked to him, drinking his own cup as he handed him the other. 

"I need you tonight." Aethelstan declared, taking the initiative to dress up as well. 

"To warm your bed?" Niallán asked, finishing his cup and putting it back on the table. When he turned around, he was raising an eyebrow and Aethelstan bit the inside of his cheek, definitely tempted to say yes. 

"I need to discuss diplomacy with you." He explained, grabbing his tunic before putting it back. 

When he looked back to Niallán he was staring at him like he was a complete fool. Aethelstan rolled his eyes, of course being diplomatic wasn't the first quality of the warrior and he perfectly knew it. Though he had to be here, as his right hand and commander in his army. 

"There will be bishop Oda and Edmond too." He added. 

"I'd rather warm your bed." Niallán grumbled, filling his cup again. 

"How kind of you." Aethelstan smirked, walking past him to join the door. 

But he got stopped by Niallán's hand grabbing his wrist and the other sliding along his neck, pulling him down to kiss him. 

"This better be quick." He narrowed his eyes. "If you don't want me to stab one of you before the end." 

"Hum, charming." Aethelstan grinned. 

"I'll shut your royal mouth." He snapped at the King's daring look. 

Aethelstan slowly stepped back to the door. "I'd love to see that." He winked and pushed the wooden door. "Tonight then." 

Oh Aethelstan didn't need to look back to imagine Niallán's scrunched up face at the simple idea to spend the evening discussing politics. But they'll have the rest of the night to forget the reality of kingship. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Aethelstan loves to flirt, Niallán... tries ?
> 
> Don't blame me for writing them again, last time was pretty sad and I love their dynamic ! They deserved som happy time 🥺


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